Status: Everything Is Not What It Seems
Mystery Of You
Mystery Of You
*SLAP* I stumbled back and held my stinging cheek with one hand.
I had been “disrespectful” and my step-dad says so he had gone right ahead and slapped me right in the face.
A loud thump was heard as my body hit the floor. Not even a breath came out of my lips throughout the whole time. I was used to this. I guess you could say that he was abusive to me. My mom had passed away a few years ago and my father refused to take custody over me, saying I would just be a nuisance. There always was a reason I decided to live with my mother instead of my dad. But things changed when mom died. My step-dad started coming home drunk, sometimes with different woman each time, and had already been fired from at least five jobs in the first two months of my mom’s death.
It was only about two years ago that he started being abusive. He was always saying that it was my fault that mom died because I was just a nuisance and I gave her so much stress that she eventually had a heart attack. I knew it wasn’t true though. There was once a time where we were a happy family. We all loved each other. That life’s over now. Gone forever, just like my mom.
“GET OUT OF HERE YOU WORTHLESS FOOL!” My step-dad yelled at me before hitting me over the head with an empty beer bottle then passing out right there on the floor.
I could feel a warm sensation flowing from my head. I reached up and sure enough, my head was bleeding. I hissed in pain as I stood to get up. Black spots clouded my vision and a sharp sting erupted from my forehead.
Step by step, I finally made it up to my bedroom and to the bathroom where I kept my first aid supplies. I cleansed then bandaged my head to stop the bleeding. I then looked at my cheek which was slowly turning a combination of purple, blue, and black.
I thought about everything that had happened over the years and let out a sigh wondering how my life went from perfect to a disaster.
I gathered my thoughts and locked them up as a knock was heard from my window. I looked over to see a figure crouched on the window sill dressed in all black. I froze in place. I had to admit, I was scared. This mystery person just showed up at my window wanting to be let in. I didn’t even know the person. They knocked again.
I made my way over and the motioned for me to unlock the window. My head was screaming no but somewhere in my heart I heard a yes. I followed my heart it hasn’t failed me yet, unlike my head, and unlocked the window. The mysterious person stepped inside and shut the window. They put their finger to their masked lips and walked over to my closed door. They took a peek outside and by my guess, decided if it was safe or not because they began to speak.
“I know what he does to you.” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth “You need to tell someone,” he continued “report it to the police. Do something because it will only get worse. Trust me I’ve been in your position.”
At first I was speechless but then I managed to stutter out “H-h-h-h-how?”
He just chuckled and replied “Trust me, tell someone. We’ll meet again, I promise you that.” Then he left.
As the weeks passed, I didn’t say a thing. I was too scared. I did meet that man again though. Every other night he would come and urge me to tell, sometimes he talked to me and listened to my past. He gave me hints and clues about him and what his past was like, but other than that he was a mystery. I remember one time I asked him his name he told me it was Zero Sanctus. The last time I saw Zero was two nights ago.
The first time I considered telling someone, my step-dad beat me more severely than usual and told me “I know you want to tell someone. Speak a word and you’re a goner.”
Ever since, I’ve been too scared to tell. That is until one day early in the morning, a knock was sounded at the door.
My step-dad was still passed out from last night. He had thrown a glass case into me causing the glass to shatter and the shards stuck themselves into my back.
I opened the door to find the police on the other side.
“Excuse me but we’ve been reported that child abuse has been happening here in this house. I need you to answer truthfully; does your father abuse you?” The one in the front asked me.
At first I hesitated to answer, but in the corner of my eye, Zero was sitting in a tree. He was nodding his head, urging me to say yes and that’s what I did.
The police officer nodded and they entered the house. Minutes later, they walked out carrying my passed out step-dad and shoved him into the back seat. He was sure going to be in for a surprise when he wakes up and finds himself in prison.
A policeman walked back over to me and explained how I was too young to care for myself and would be placed in a foster home. I just nodded my head, too shocked to say anything and followed the policeman into a separate car and we were off.
As we drove past the tree where Zero was, I lifted my hand to wave a goodbye and give my thanks, but he was gone. He just disappeared into thin air. I stared in confusion but gratitude. He most likely just saved my life.
I sat back in my seat and thought over all that had happened. I was finally free of my father. Everything was over, the beatings, the name calling, the accusations, everything. And I was glad for it all to end. I just wish I would still be able talk to Zero. Maybe I will.
“Excuse me,” I said in a small voice. The policeman nodded letting me know he was listening, “Do you know anyone by the name of Zero Sanctus?” I asked politely and quietly.
“I know everyone in this town by heart and I have to say that I never heard anyone with that name before. But the person who did report this situation went by the name of Markus Imhotep. Does that help?” he replied.
I just replied a quiet no and when he asked why I wanted to know this I just simply told him “No reason.”
He gave me a weird look then turned his eyes back to the road.
I sat in the back trying to figure everything out. Was Zero really Markus or was Markus really Zero? I don’t know if I’ll ever find out. Whoever you are, Zero or Markus, the mystery of you, remains a mystery.
I had been “disrespectful” and my step-dad says so he had gone right ahead and slapped me right in the face.
A loud thump was heard as my body hit the floor. Not even a breath came out of my lips throughout the whole time. I was used to this. I guess you could say that he was abusive to me. My mom had passed away a few years ago and my father refused to take custody over me, saying I would just be a nuisance. There always was a reason I decided to live with my mother instead of my dad. But things changed when mom died. My step-dad started coming home drunk, sometimes with different woman each time, and had already been fired from at least five jobs in the first two months of my mom’s death.
It was only about two years ago that he started being abusive. He was always saying that it was my fault that mom died because I was just a nuisance and I gave her so much stress that she eventually had a heart attack. I knew it wasn’t true though. There was once a time where we were a happy family. We all loved each other. That life’s over now. Gone forever, just like my mom.
“GET OUT OF HERE YOU WORTHLESS FOOL!” My step-dad yelled at me before hitting me over the head with an empty beer bottle then passing out right there on the floor.
I could feel a warm sensation flowing from my head. I reached up and sure enough, my head was bleeding. I hissed in pain as I stood to get up. Black spots clouded my vision and a sharp sting erupted from my forehead.
Step by step, I finally made it up to my bedroom and to the bathroom where I kept my first aid supplies. I cleansed then bandaged my head to stop the bleeding. I then looked at my cheek which was slowly turning a combination of purple, blue, and black.
I thought about everything that had happened over the years and let out a sigh wondering how my life went from perfect to a disaster.
I gathered my thoughts and locked them up as a knock was heard from my window. I looked over to see a figure crouched on the window sill dressed in all black. I froze in place. I had to admit, I was scared. This mystery person just showed up at my window wanting to be let in. I didn’t even know the person. They knocked again.
I made my way over and the motioned for me to unlock the window. My head was screaming no but somewhere in my heart I heard a yes. I followed my heart it hasn’t failed me yet, unlike my head, and unlocked the window. The mysterious person stepped inside and shut the window. They put their finger to their masked lips and walked over to my closed door. They took a peek outside and by my guess, decided if it was safe or not because they began to speak.
“I know what he does to you.” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth “You need to tell someone,” he continued “report it to the police. Do something because it will only get worse. Trust me I’ve been in your position.”
At first I was speechless but then I managed to stutter out “H-h-h-h-how?”
He just chuckled and replied “Trust me, tell someone. We’ll meet again, I promise you that.” Then he left.
As the weeks passed, I didn’t say a thing. I was too scared. I did meet that man again though. Every other night he would come and urge me to tell, sometimes he talked to me and listened to my past. He gave me hints and clues about him and what his past was like, but other than that he was a mystery. I remember one time I asked him his name he told me it was Zero Sanctus. The last time I saw Zero was two nights ago.
The first time I considered telling someone, my step-dad beat me more severely than usual and told me “I know you want to tell someone. Speak a word and you’re a goner.”
Ever since, I’ve been too scared to tell. That is until one day early in the morning, a knock was sounded at the door.
My step-dad was still passed out from last night. He had thrown a glass case into me causing the glass to shatter and the shards stuck themselves into my back.
I opened the door to find the police on the other side.
“Excuse me but we’ve been reported that child abuse has been happening here in this house. I need you to answer truthfully; does your father abuse you?” The one in the front asked me.
At first I hesitated to answer, but in the corner of my eye, Zero was sitting in a tree. He was nodding his head, urging me to say yes and that’s what I did.
The police officer nodded and they entered the house. Minutes later, they walked out carrying my passed out step-dad and shoved him into the back seat. He was sure going to be in for a surprise when he wakes up and finds himself in prison.
A policeman walked back over to me and explained how I was too young to care for myself and would be placed in a foster home. I just nodded my head, too shocked to say anything and followed the policeman into a separate car and we were off.
As we drove past the tree where Zero was, I lifted my hand to wave a goodbye and give my thanks, but he was gone. He just disappeared into thin air. I stared in confusion but gratitude. He most likely just saved my life.
I sat back in my seat and thought over all that had happened. I was finally free of my father. Everything was over, the beatings, the name calling, the accusations, everything. And I was glad for it all to end. I just wish I would still be able talk to Zero. Maybe I will.
“Excuse me,” I said in a small voice. The policeman nodded letting me know he was listening, “Do you know anyone by the name of Zero Sanctus?” I asked politely and quietly.
“I know everyone in this town by heart and I have to say that I never heard anyone with that name before. But the person who did report this situation went by the name of Markus Imhotep. Does that help?” he replied.
I just replied a quiet no and when he asked why I wanted to know this I just simply told him “No reason.”
He gave me a weird look then turned his eyes back to the road.
I sat in the back trying to figure everything out. Was Zero really Markus or was Markus really Zero? I don’t know if I’ll ever find out. Whoever you are, Zero or Markus, the mystery of you, remains a mystery.